


Hold the Line

by sarahcakes613



Series: Food Crimes [2]
Category: Law & Order: SVU
Genre: Alternate Universe, Anal Sex, Chef Rafael Barba, Eggs Benedict, Exhibitionism, Journalist Sonny Carisi, M/M, Mild humiliation kink, Semi-Public Sex, Spit As Lube
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-04
Updated: 2020-11-04
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:48:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27378976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sarahcakes613/pseuds/sarahcakes613
Summary: Sonny returns to Chef Barba's restaurant a week after their alleyway encounter. He's meant to be interviewing the man, but they once again find themselves mostly pantsless instead.
Relationships: Rafael Barba/Dominick "Sonny" Carisi Jr.
Series: Food Crimes [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2000968
Comments: 10
Kudos: 67
Collections: Barisi Professions Bingo





	Hold the Line

**Author's Note:**

> This is a direct continuation of You are my wicked thrill, aka the one where Sonny ordered a well done steak and got a side of backalley buggering. What can I say, Sonny's insistence on overcooked food is an inexplicable turn-on for Raf.

“Carisi, my office.” Sonny’s editor sails by his desk and he grabs his notebook and follows her.

Olivia leans back in her chair, tossing a baseball up and down as she talks.

“Our readers loved the feature on the steakhouse you and Rollins posted last week,” she says. “There’s been a lot of interest in Chef Barba.”

“Yeah, he’s uh. An interesting guy.” Sonny shifts in his chair. It’s been a week but if he thinks about it he can still feel the slightest twinge of soreness in his muscles.

“He’s also notoriously reluctant to give interviews, which is where you come in.” Liv tosses the ball to Sonny, who catches it in surprise.

“Me, what about me?” He asks.

Liv leans forward, elbows on the desk, and looks intently at him. “He’s agreed to give MetroBuzz an exclusive interview,” she says, “but it has to be with you.”

Sonny gapes at her. “Why?!”

She squints. “I assumed you would know, you’re the one that spoke to him last time.”

Sonny flushes hotly. They hadn’t done a whole lot of talking, but he has an idea of why Barba’s specifically requested him. He licks his lips.

“Do we have the interview set up?”

“Yes, tomorrow at 8am. I know it’s early, but apparently the restaurant is looking to test out a small breakfast menu on weekends, so you can get the scoop on that.”

Breakfast. Sonny thinks about the pancakes he’d never gone back for. He jots down the information and then stands up to leave.

“Oh, and Carisi?” Liv calls.

He turns back to look at her, hand still on the doorknob. “Yeah boss?”

She smirks. “Don’t worry about rushing back here after the interview.”

Sonny’s neck burns as he leaves the room, Liv’s throaty laugh following him.

* * *

Sonny hooks his sunglasses over his shirt collar as he pulls open the door and walks into the restaurant.

“Hello?” He calls out. He’s surprised, he wasn’t expecting a full house but he’d expected to at least find one of the floor managers around.

“Well hey there, angel.” He hears a deep voice say, and he turns to see Raf standing at the pass. He’s slouched down but he straightens up and disappears, reappearing to hold the kitchen door open.

“Come on in, I’ll make us some breakfast.”

Sonny walks into the kitchen and perches himself on a stool next to a cleared worktop. Raf is facing away from him, focusing on two pots simmering on the stovetop.

“You never came back,” Raf observes quietly, his voice raised just enough to be heard over the sizzling of a pan of sautéing spinach.

“No,” Sonny agrees. “I wasn’t sure if you really meant the invitation.”

Raf looks up at him, and Sonny squirms at the intensity of those vivid green eyes. “I don’t say things I don’t mean, kid.” He says it mildly, but Sonny can hear the admonition in it.

“I’m sorry,” Sonny says, chewing his lip. What he isn’t saying is that he’d gone home that night full of giddy excitement at returning, and then the doubt had crept in. He didn’t think he could bear returning only for Raf to laugh at him, say he didn’t mean it.

Raf hums as he cooks. He’s got two English muffins toasting, and Sonny smells the distinct buttery lemon scent of Hollandaise sauce.

“Are you making eggs Benedict?” Sonny asks, digging out his phone to make some notes. “Is that going to be on the breakfast menu?”

“Eggs Florentine,” Raf corrects. “And probably not, poached eggs can be finicky when you’ve got a lot of them on at once. We want to keep it simple, fried egg and steak sandwiches, maybe egg white omelets for any early morning joggers who get lost and wind up here.”

He scoops the spinach onto each muffin half and slides a perfectly spherical egg on top, followed by a healthy dollop of Hollandaise sauce. He carries the dishes over to the worktop.

Sonny takes his fork and pierces his egg cautiously, wincing as the runny yolk drips out, soaking into the spinach.

“What?” Raf asks, noticing him not eating.

“I don’t really like when the yolk is still goopy.” Sonny admits, poking at the viscous golden yellow liquid.

“Goopy?!” Raf’s eyebrows go up. “They’re _runny_. This is how poached eggs are supposed to be eaten.”

Sonny shrugs apologetically. “I like mine to be a bit firmer.”

“I’ll show you firmer,” Raf mutters.

Sonny smirks and draws a finger through the Hollandaise sauce pooling on his plate. He brings it to his lips and sucks his whole finger into his mouth, moaning as he enjoys the flavour of the creamy sauce on his tongue. He drags his finger out slowly, removing it with a final _pop_ , his lips puckering.

Raf is staring at him, his own fork dangling loosely in his hand. When Sonny meets his eyes with a coy smile, his eyes darken and his fork drops with a clatter as he pushes both of their plates away.

He grabs Sonny and hoists him up onto the counter, pulling him to the edge and standing between his open legs.

“You drive me crazy,” Raf groans into Sonny’s neck, licking his way up to Sonny’s mouth. Sonny’s lips part and Raf plunges his tongue in, licking into him and devouring his taste.

“With your absurd,” he sucks at the thin skin of Sonny’s jaw, “insistence on,” nips at his earlobe, “overcooked food.” He bites down at the juncture of shoulder and neck and Sonny gasps, bucking forward.

It brings their groins into contact and they both groan at the sensation. Sonny can feel Raf’s heat pressed against him and he remembers with a thrill how the chef had gone commando last time.

Raf backs away and nudges Sonny down from the counter, spinning him around and pushing between his shoulder blades so he is bent over the worktop with his ass in the air.

“Maybe I should spank some taste into you,” Barba muses, his hand resting heavy on Sonny’s lower back. “Some other time, though.”

He reaches down to Sonny’s front, yanking his zipper open and tugging his jeans halfway down his thighs.

“Suck,” he directs, his hand in front of Sonny’s mouth. Sonny laves the other man’s fingers with his tongue, coating them in his spit, and then he feels one deliciously thick finger slowly pushing into him.

He groans and pushes his hips back, chasing the sensation, and Raf swats lightly at his hip.

“Stay put, angel.” He says gruffly, and Sonny’s muscles clench at the demand in his tone.

“I want more, come on, gimme more Raf,” Sonny insists, craning his neck to see Barba looking unruffled but for the bulge in his jeans.

Barba smirks. “I seem to recall us agreeing you’d call me something else if we did this again.” He murmurs, but he acquiesces to Sonny’s request and slides a second finger in, scissoring them as he fucks them in and out.

“Please chef,” Sonny huffs, and Raf’s hand moves faster now, three fingers in Sonny’s ass and the palm of his hand slapping against his cheeks. Sonny shoves himself back, trying to get the fingers deeper. Raf huffs and puts his other hand on the small of Sonny’s back, holding him down.

“I said stay put,” he growls, and his fingers skim across Sonny’s prostate. The rumble of his voice and the white-hot press of his fingers send a flicker of heat up Sonny’s spine and almost before he knows it is happening he is coming, unable to stop it. He keens and his muscles clench and release as the orgasm runs through him, his cock spurting streams of come onto the floor and across his jeans.

Raf’s fingers pull out of him and he whimpers at the cold emptiness.

“Oh shit, baby,” he murmurs in awe. His hand reaches down and cups Sonny’s cock, the tip sticky and sensitive. “That was so hot.”

Sonny pushes himself up on his elbows and wiggles his hips as he looks over his shoulder. He knows what he looks like when he’s post-orgasm, his eyes shot and his mouth red and swollen from biting.

“Fuck me chef,” he tries to say it in a low sultry tone but it comes out half pleading. “I’ve been dreaming about that thick cock of yours.”

Raf smiles and runs a hand down his ass, one finger dragging down his cleft to his hole. Sonny twitches, still sensitive from coming, but he can already feel his cock fattening up again. Raf presses himself against Sonny’s bare skin, the rough of his jeans and zipper chafing. His cock is a thick line in his jeans and Sonny wiggles impatiently.

“So needy,” Raf laughs. He flicks at the button of his jeans and shoves them down, his cock jutting out from the open vee of his zipper. He slides his cock between Sonny’s cheeks, thrusting his hips so his cock nudges at Sonny’s rim.

“Wait, wait,” Sonny gestures to one of his pockets. Raf leans over him and reaches in, pulling out a condom. He laughs as he carefully rips it open with his teeth.

“Thought you’d get lucky, huh?” He asks as he rolls it down his cock.

“I hoped,” Sonny admits.

Raf hums and reaches down to spread Sonny’s cheeks, directing himself to his hole. He pushes in with one smooth stroke and Sonny gasps at the fullness.

“So tight,” Raf groans. “So fucking tight, baby.” He rolls his hips, his cock going deep into Sonny. He pulls out almost to the tip and thrusts back in, setting off a punishing rhythm, snapping his hips fast and gripping Sonny’s ass, spreading his cheeks and watching his cock push in and out.

Sonny’s muscles are tense, his thighs quivering as he chases that shivery feeling. He squeezes down on Raf’s cock and feels it jump inside him.

“You think you can come again?” Raf asks in a stuttered voice, gasping the words out. He doesn’t stop moving and Sonny nods, his hands scrabbling across the metal countertop as he tries to work one down to his cock.

He’s got his fingers wrapped tightly around himself when he hears the back door bang open and he freezes.

“Maldita sea no otra vez,” the newcomer huffs, stomping into the kitchen.

Sonny tries to shove Raf back, but his hands are tight on Sonny’s hips.

“You’re not going anywhere, angel,” he murmurs, grinding his hips in tight circles as he talks to the man behind them.

“You’re early, Amaro.”

“Only by ten minutes. You saying I should go and come back, you’ll be done by then?”

“Mm, probably not.” Raf agrees. He’s barely moving, and Sonny can feel him throbbing inside him.

“I’ll be in the front,” Amaro says. “Try not to leave too much of a mess for me to clean up this time, hey?” The door swings behind him as he leaves the kitchen and busies himself in the dining room.

“Too late,” Sonny mutters. His hand is still gripping himself, but he is softening, his fingers dripping with spunk.

“Aw, baby,” Raf says, building his slow thrusts back up. “You just can’t control yourself, can you?”

Sonny hangs his head, shaking it. “No chef,” he says quietly. The lightly patronizing tone in Raf’s voice has played in his head since their first encounter and now he can apparently add being caught to the mild humiliation kink he has.

“You like taking it when you’re all loose and fuckdrunk, hm?” Raf asks, punctuating his question with a hard thrust.

“Yeah,” Sonny says breathlessly. “I love it.”

“I’m close,” Raf says, “can I come on you?”

Sonny arches his back in response, and Raf swears under his breath as he thrusts a few more times, getting himself to the razor’s edge before pulling out. Sonny hears the snap of the condom being yanked off and then Raf groans and he feels hot splashes hitting the small of his back and his ass.

Raf drags his cock through the spunk and pushes his cock back into Sonny. He leans over and rests his forehead on Sonny’s shoulder, his breath coming ragged and fast.

Once he has softened and slipped out of Sonny, he stands up and reaches for a roll of paper towels. He swipes at Sonny’s back and then coaxes him to stand with a pat to his ass.

Sonny wipes off his hand and zips up his fly. He looks down at the floor, at the spunk spattering the ground and he notices there is some on the edge of the counter as well.

Raf follows his eyeline and laughs. “Don’t worry about it, Nick’ll take care of it.”

“Seriously?” Sonny doesn’t feel right leaving that kind of mess for someone else.

“Eh, I’ve done it for him enough times.” Raf shrugs and grabs his jacket from a hook on the wall. “Come on, I need a smoke and you still have an interview to conduct.”

Sonny obediently follows him out the back door into the alley and pulls his phone out to record their conversation. Before he can open the voice notes, Raf grabs his wrist.

“One thing, off the record.”

Sonny looks at him, waiting.

“When we’re done the interview, I’m going to repeat that offer of 2am pancakes.”

“Oh, right?” Sonny says.

Raf tilts his chin down to look him in the eye. “I’d like it if you showed up this time.”

Sonny nods, his mouth dry. “Yeah, I’ll – I’ll be here.”

“Good boy.” Raf pats his cheek, and it’s just the right level of condescending that Sonny flushes hot behind his ears.

Raf lights his cigarette and gestures at Sonny to begin his questions.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to Sandra for the Spanish!  
> Maldita sea no otra vez = damnit, not again! (complete with eye roll for effect)
> 
> I love eggs benny (and florentine, and other variations) and I'm always a bit disappointed when my yolk doesn't ooze.
> 
> And a preemptive answer to anyone who might ask - there is definitely more of what I'm calling the "food crimes universe" to come!


End file.
